Nora's POV
My fingertips tap an anxious rhythm against the marble countertop as I stare down at the cream-colored envelope that arrived this morning. The elegant script on the front might as well be written in poison ink for all the dread it's stirring in my chest. Part of me wants to toss the whole thing in the trash and pretend it never existed.
"What do you think, Mack?" I glance down at the sleek black cat positioned near my feet, his golden eyes watching me with that peculiar intelligence cats seem to possess. "Should I even bother opening this?"
The feline tilts his head as if considering my question seriously. With a heavy sigh, I slide down to sit cross-legged on the cool kitchen tiles. Mack immediately pads over, pressing his warm body against my thigh and reaching out with one velvet paw to tap the invitation.
"You're right. I'm being ridiculous." I run my fingers through his soft fur, drawing comfort from the familiar gesture. "I've spent years building this new life, creating something that actually makes me happy. Things have been good, haven't they?"
Mack responds with a gentle purr that vibrates through his entire frame. I lift the envelope again, then hesitate. "God, I'm pathetic. It's just paper. Just ink on paper."
But we both know it's so much more than that.
Taking a deep breath, I tear open the seal and slide out the invitation. The moment I see it, I can't help but laugh. "Well, would you look at this. Someone went all out. This looks like something you'd get for a presidential inauguration, not a six-year-old's birthday party."
The cardstock is thick and expensive, embossed with gold details that catch the afternoon light streaming through my kitchen window. Every element screams luxury, from the custom calligraphy to the tissue paper lining. Despite everything, I find myself smiling slightly. "At least we know the catering will be top-notch."
Mack climbs into my lap, his weight warm and reassuring as he nuzzles against my cheek. His whiskers tickle my skin, and I scratch behind his ears. "You think I should skip it, don't you? Though honestly, you'd probably charm everyone there if I could smuggle you in."
I read through the details again, letting the reality settle over me like a heavy blanket. My niece. A little girl I've never even met, which makes my stomach twist with guilt. She's probably walking now, talking in full sentences, maybe even starting to show signs of having abilities like mine. The thought both thrills and terrifies me.
In our family, I'm the anomaly. The one with gifts that nobody else understands or possesses. But there's always a chance, however small, that this innocent child might inherit something similar. And if she does, she's going to need someone who understands what that means. Someone who can guide her through the confusion and fear that comes with being different.
That someone should be me.
My phone feels heavy in my hands as I type the return address from the invitation into Google. Within seconds, I'm staring at a real estate listing that makes my eyes widen. "Holy hell, Mack. Look at this price tag."
The house is stunning, I'll give them that. Sprawling lawn, circular driveway, windows that probably cost more than most people's cars. I can see why my sister would want to renovate the kitchen though - even in a place like this, there's always room for improvement. The thought of mingling in those pristine rooms, making small talk with people I haven't seen in years, makes my palms sweat.
"I can handle a party," I murmur, more to convince myself than to inform my feline audience. "I'll drag Ophelia along as my emotional support system. We'll park ourselves near the food table and avoid any deep conversations. Easy enough, right?"
But even as I say it, I know the real challenge won't be the party itself. It'll be seeing him. My father. The man who made it clear that my abilities weren't a gift but a burden, something to be hidden away and never discussed. Just thinking about facing him again makes my chest tighten with a familiar ache I thought I'd buried years ago.
"Maybe I'll just drive by first," I tell Mack, who has settled comfortably in my lap and shows no signs of moving. "You know, test the waters. See how I feel when I'm actually there. Baby steps and all that."
It's a reasonable compromise, I think. My sister is probably already stress-eating over the planning details, refreshing her email every five minutes waiting for RSVPs to roll in. The least I can do is give her an answer soon, even if I'm not entirely sure what that answer will be.
Mack lets out a soft meow that sounds almost approving. At the sound, two more cats appear as if summoned - a gray tabby and a calico who've been napping in whatever sunny spots they could find throughout the house.
"Oh, now you all show up." I laugh despite my lingering anxiety. "Let me guess - dinner time?"
I stand carefully, making sure not to disturb Mack too much, and move to the refrigerator. The venison I pull out is cooked exactly how each of them prefers - rare, with just the right amount of seasoning to satisfy their individual tastes. It's a small luxury, but one that brings me genuine joy.
"There you go, spoiled children." I set down their dishes and watch as they settle into their evening routine. "I'll be back in a few hours. Try not to destroy anything while I'm gone."